Life poses such questions
before our souls' bastions
time and again, skies warp
with a report gently sharp
"Life is made of unwritten poems."
Very often we have no answer.
When life itself is a question
where do we find answers?
When the skies warp, where does life seek refuge?
Life has its own way taking us forward….. Or is it backwards? ? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic write.....thank u, dear poet....
I express my gratitude, from the bottom of my heart, dear poet. Thank you.